Angels and Demons
by Heart of PureSilver
Summary: Vincent Valentine. Abel Nightroad. The most unlikely duo, but both have suffered beyond compare. The Planet decides to do something about it. By making them meet. "I've been meaning to ask what happened to your arm." "You could say...that it is the mark of my sins. You wouldn't understand." "No. I understand more than you'll ever know." Abel/Esther, Vin/Astha, one-sided Yuffie/Vin


Chapter 1

The Lifestream: a river of life that contains all the memories, feelings, and knowledge of every soul it harbors. It is the lifeblood of all things that flows within the Planet. Much like the human body has veins and arteries that carry blood, the Lifestream works in a similar way for the Planet. But there are many strange things that the Lifestream is capable of.

For one such instance, Tifa Lockheart was able to enter into her friend Cloud's subconscious. The Shinra Company were able to convert Mako, liquefied Lifesream, into energy using reactors. Yes, the Lifestream is capable of doing many things. But there is another strange power the Lifestream has. There was always the hypothesis that we are just one of the many universes that exist out there. We live in one universe where one failed action led to nearly having the Planet destroyed. There could possibly be another universe where that one action did not fail. There could be another universe entirely different than the one we know of.

Capable of talking with people still living? Child's play. Capable of destroying influence from a 2,000-year-old alien? Harder to achieve, but still possible. Having the ability to send someone to another dimension? Who would've guessed?

I know I never would have if I were you. But then again…

I never would have met you, if it hadn't happened to you…

_Tovarish_.

* * *

"_I cannot forget. Even if everyone on this earth forgives me…even if every person on this earth reaches out to me…I cannot forgive myself."_

"_All I did was watch. I didn't even try to stop her. And then…"_

"_Nothing has changed. Not in the past. Not even now."_

"_That was my sin. And this…"_

"_I am still a monster."_

"_**This**__…is my punishment"._

* * *

_**Aerith?**_

_Yes?_

_**I suppose you know what to do?**_

_I do. He's not going to like it. You know how he is. Are you sure there's no other way?_

_**I think it's time the two worlds, my two beings, met and bonded.**_

_**My poor children. Why must darkness claim your hearts? Many have suffered and many have died just like you. When has revenge ever answered for anything? The only way to quell the darkness is with friendship and love. Why can't my children understand that?**_

_I suppose that's why their Mother must intervene? Just this once?_

_**You learn fast, my child. Now go. It's time that one learned to love again and the other to learn to forgive himself.**_

_As you wish. I will go and fulfill your—the Planet's—wish._

_**Thank you, Aerith.**_

* * *

"Hey, _Vinnie_!"

The red-eyed, red-cloaked gunslinger held the phone away from his ear once that annoyingly familiar voice blasted through the receiver. Vincent Valentine thought dark thoughts and promised a painful death to whoever was the idiot that gave _Yuffie_ his phone number.

"Yuffie. How did you get my phone number?"

"That's all you have to say!? Would it kill you to let people know you're still alive? I mean, we've barely heard anything from you since the whole Remnant incident!"

"Your point?"

"Come on! What's this new mission Reeve gave you? Come _ooooooon_! You can tell me!"

"No."

"GAH! You're infuriating, you know that!?"

"I know."

Vincent clicked "end call" on his phone before the "White Rose of Wutai" could get on his case. He also made a mental note to find out if there was an "ignore" feature on his phone. That would save a lot of aggravation for someone else at another time. While he never showed his emotions to a large extent, rivaling even pre-insane Sephiroth's emotional control, it didn't mean he had none at all. A large number of his happier emotions died along with him when Hojo shot him and used his corpse in various experiments. He still wasn't quite sure how he survived that day and he vaguely wondered if he would ever feel things like "joy" and "love" again.

Vincent mentally tossed these thoughts aside. He had his most recent mission from Reeve to attend to; fairly minor in his opinion, but apparently it garnered Reeve's attention. The Cait Sith robot was used to investigate the sudden activity of the open pool of Mako that was once the town of Mideel. Strangely, the WRO leader lost contact with the cat. Sudden spikes of energy around the area affected Cait Sith's communication system and the connection went dead soon after.

The Ex-Turk wasn't quite sure why the Lifestream was suddenly acting up and what happened to the feline fortune-teller, but that's why he was there now. To be honest, the area looked exactly as it did the last time he was here. Crumbled remains of wooden houses still littered the area and the glowing green Mako still permeated the area. There really wasn't any place for a three-foot-tall cat to hide and the monsters were nowhere near the area due to the highly concentrated Lifestream. So, why had Cait Sith gone missing?

Vincent knelt down, gazing into the neon green substance below him. One wrong move and he could fall in, just like Tifa and Cloud had. At least they had come back out alive; he might not be so lucky. Pulling out his phone again (and ignoring the three messages Yuffie had left), he attempted to contact Reeve. However, much like what the man had told him, all he got was static. Closing the device, Vincent returned to looking at the Mako. It _looked_ normal. So why, and how, was it acting up?

He was brought out of his musings by a sudden tremor. Quickly gaining balance so he wouldn't fall into the Lifestream below, he swiftly backed away from the crater.

"What was that?" he said aloud.

Another quake shook the ground below, this one more violent than the last. It brought the gun wielder to his knees. Tendrils of the Lifestream came out of the Mako, slithering upwards out of the pool like a cobra listening to a snake charmer. _That_ certainly never happened before.

_Vincent. I'm sorry. But I do think this is for the best…if you meet...  
_

"Aerith?" was all he said before those tendrils cascaded down toward him.

Before he could move, they wrapped around him; enveloped him in a soothing light. It was very warm, like a mother holding a child to her heart. His thoughts became muddled; what was the Lifestream—what was _Aerith_— doing to him?

He could only guess as his vision flooded with green before shifting to black. The feeling of disembodiment while remaining conscious brought back memories of Hojo's experiments. Those painfully long hours of that man tinkering with things in his body sent horrid shivers through his mind and "body". Thankfully, the sensation didn't last long and he felt himself land face-first into concrete.

Wait, concrete?

Wasn't he just on an island fertile with plants and a crater full of Mako? So there shouldn't have been concrete located for miles!

Vincent grunted as he stood up on shaking legs. It took a few minutes before he managed to gather his bearings. He looked around, feeling on edge about where he was. It was an alleyway and it was night; the bright crescent moon shone overhead, bringing some light into the desolate area. He saw no destroyed metal structures, so Midgar was definitely not it. And how had it suddenly shifted from being midday to midnight in a few seconds?

In fact, the entire place seemed foreign to him. Putting his hands on his hips, Vincent let out an inaudible sigh as he started walking down the alley. Of course; strange things _always_ happened around Vincent Valentine. The first thing to do would be find higher ground and survey the area. That or find whoever would be the unfortunate local he would talk to.

How did he get there? That was the main question he had. He definitely heard Aerith's voice before the tendrils of Lifestream surrounded him. What did she mean by "I think this is for the best"? What was for the best? And meet who? While he walked, he took out his cell phone and dialed Reeve. Hopefully, he could still contact the man. The phone rang. And rang. And rang.

_I'm sorry. The number you have reached is not in service at this time. Please check the number or try your call again._

Oh, how he hated that automated voice. Several tries with different numbers—even _Yuffie's_—resulted in the same fruitless effort. Scowling slightly, he put the device away. So much for contacting one of his friends.

He stopped mid-step, tensing up as he felt the prickling sensation of being watched. His gun hand twitched as it remained close to the holster strapped to his leg. All he could do was wait; wait and see who would be foolish enough to confront him.

"Well, well."

Vincent stiffened as he looked forward. A random stranger; a woman who was scantily dressed in a top that barely covered her cleavage and a pair of shorts, all completed with a pair of matching gloves and boots. She looked harmless, but something nagged him in his mind that this woman was anything but.

"Why's a pretty face like yours wandering around at this hour?"

Silence.

"Not one to talk? No matter," she said as she held up her hand. She motioned something, or someone, forward with her hand. "You're going to die in the end anyway, terran. I can't have any witnesses regarding the _Fleurs Du Mal's_ whereabouts."

"Terran?" was all he managed to say before he sensed someone approach behind him, and fast.

With matching speed, the Ex-Turk drew his gun, Cerberus, and shot the attacker in the head. The male fell to the ground, twitching as blood seeped out of the wound. It was then he realized that there was a chance that there were more hiding out there. He also noticed the woman had disappeared as well.

"Alright," he muttered, pointing Cerberus at more of the attackers. "Come on."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"_What happened here?_"

That was the first thought going through Abel Nightroad's mind when he saw the gruesome scene. Blood stained every inch of the alley way. Cadavers littered the ground, seemingly unhurt except for the vaguely triangular-shaped wounds in various spots on their bodies.

"**Total of fifteen bodies. All vampires,**" was the confirmation from his partner, Tres Iqus. "**Vital spots were targeted, though most shots were in favor of incapacitating the targets. All precisely executed with a triple-barreled revolver.**"

"Triple-barreled revolver?" Abel questioned. "No one uses those anymore. They're too costly with bullets. Are you absolutely sure?"

"**Unable to verify. Insufficient data,**" the android responded. "**Switching to search mode.**"

Brown eyes glinted red as the machinery in Tres activated, attempting to find the culprit. The machine tracked down pointed bloody footprints leading away from the scene. The man went forward.

"**Confirmed traces of single suspect. Escaped on foot. Father Abel Nightroad; I will now pursue.**"

The android trailed the bloody footprints, leaving Abel to muse to himself. He looked back over the carnage, thinking deeply. He was thoroughly confused as to how someone could possibly hit Methuselah _that_ accurately when they had speed surmounting a human's? He certainly couldn't think of anyone other than Tres who had that capability, but he didn't count since he wasn't human. Whoever this person was, he hoped he wasn't working with a hidden agenda and would attack on sight. He shook his head, clearing any doubts. He really wished it wouldn't come to that.

The two Vatican priests continued on through the alleyway, leading to a dead end. There were plenty of large crates and other items strewn about the area, allowing cover for the perfect trap. Tres moved forward, guns at the ready, while Abel stayed behind in case whoever killed the vampires would try and escape. Was it another, stronger, Methuselah? Or was it a scientifically enhanced human? Or maybe neither?

Whatever Abel was expecting, it certainly wasn't what came out from the shadows.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"_Perfect_," was all he could say to describe the situation.

First, those strange beings attacked him for no reason whatsoever. It was all self-defense, but the resulting scene looked more like a bloodbath. Then he had heard the approaching footsteps and took his leave from the scene. Who knows who they were? They could have been potential allies or backup for the people he had killed. He wasn't going to chance it. His previous experience as a Turk taught him that. Yet, his luck continued to suck more and more the longer he stayed in this place. He had no idea where he was, so it wasn't a surprise to him when he reached a dead end. Thankfully, there were plenty of places to hide if the people pursuing him were enemies.

"_Speaking of which,_" he thought as he heard the sounds of boots clipping on concrete.

He ducked behind one of the nearby crates. The shadows of one of the unknown assailants grew closer. Vincent reloaded Cerberus. He peeked over the edge of the crate. The male held two guns and was dressed in odd robes. A cross was seen hanging from a piece of metal strapped near his neck. He had to wait for the opportune moment to strike.

Closer he came. Not yet.

Closer still. He still couldn't move yet.

The shadow was almost next to him now. He could see the white-outlined black robes.

The person walked past him.

NOW.

He drew his gun.

Only for the fire to be sent by the other male first.

"**Point zero five seconds too slow.**"

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The android quickly responded with a flurry of silver bullets towards something behind one of the crates. Abel saw a blur of red fly out and resounding fire echoed off the walls of the alley. Abel nearly jumped out of his Vatican mantle when he saw Tres get shot multiple times in the arms and chest.

"Hold it!" he shouted.

Tres and the red-something ceased moving. It was then Abel could get a good look at the person before him.

Cloaked in red and body clad entirely in leather; the man was relatively young. Uneven strands of black hair framed his face, which was a slightly pasty color. A triple-barreled revolver was held in his right hand while his left was covered by a gold gauntlet of sorts. Blood red eyes glowed ominously in the moonlight. Whoever it was, it was most likely their culprit to the massacre of the _Fleurs Du Mal_.

The sound of dripping brought Abel back to reality. He saw blood dripping from gunshot wounds in the youth's right arm and shoulder. Tres stood behind the man, guns pointed at the him in case he tried to escape.

"I'm sorry," the priest apologized as he extended a hand to the male. "Are you alright?"

He was met with a cryptic gaze and quietness from the other.

"_There's certainly something...different about him. He looks human, but he's not a vampire either. Definitely not of European descent. So what...?_" Abel thought.

"I apologize for Tres. He's the type to shoot first and ask questions later."

"**I fail to understand, Father Nightroad. It is my mission. Why would there be a need for questions?**" was Tres' comeback in the background.

More silence.

"And…um…were you the one who killed the vampires?"

The ruby stare and persistent quietness was starting to unnerve him. Did the man even know how to speak?

"Vampires?"

Okay. So that answered that question.

"**Positive,**" Tres answered. "**Beings that suck the blood of humans.**"

"Then…that helps," the man muttered more to himself than to the two strange men interrogating him.

"Listen; Tres, you go ahead and find the rest of the _Fleurs Du Mal_. I'm sure you can handle that. I think I need to address to…what's your name?"

Silence.

"Fine. I'll address to Mr. Red's wounds that you so generously gave him and listen to what he as to say."

"**I cannot compute,**" Tres said, pointing both guns at the stranger. "**Our mission was to eradicate the **_**Fleurs Du Mal**_** and investigate the sudden energy distortion in the area. The mission has nothing to do with him.**"

"_Cannot compute? He sounds like a stereotypical robot,_" was the man's startled thoughts, though his face betrayed nothing.

"Alright, alright, alright," Abel said, waving his hand as if dismissing the matter. "I'll look into the energy fluctuation and you handle the vampires. How's that sound?"

Tres said nothing when he left the area as if a battle hadn't taken place there moments before, leaving Abel with the mystery man. The silver-haired priest smiled awkwardly at him.

"So! How about we dress your wounds and talk about this over some milk tea?"

"I don't think so," was the immediate response. With a flick of the red cloak, the man began walking away.

"WHAT!?" Abel shouted as he latched onto the gunman's left arm. "But you're injured! You can't just wander around here with gunshot wounds!"

"Never stopped me before," was the man's response.

"Eh?"

"Never mind. Let go," the male said, attempting to get the priest off his arm. Abel's grip remained firm.

"I don't think so," the priest shot back, aqua eyes showing a hidden fire behind them. "I'm not letting you out of my sight until you explain who, or _what_, you are and how you defeated the vampires. Not just anyone can take on fifteen Methuselah and survive without as much as a scratch unless they've had prior battle experience."

"Why do I always get myself into these types of situations?" Red-Eyes muttered under his breath, although Abel heard him.

Abel blinked in confusion, still holding onto the gauntlet-covered arm. The man sighed in defeat.

"Since you're my personal leech until I go with you; fine, you win," the man said after a few seconds. "Maybe you can answer some questions of mine as well."

"Thank you," the Father said, smiling even though he was just called a "leech". "So, how many lumps of sugar do you—"

"No tea."

"_AWWWWW!_"

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Regardless of Vincent's refusal, the "Father", as he insisted on being called that, had made the milk tea anyway. That wasn't what bothered him. He actually liked tea, with or without milk. It was the fact the Father put too much sugar in it. The Ex-Turk made a distinct look of disgust when he saw Abel put _thirteen_ lumps of sugar in his already sweet tea. Thirteen, exactly. Why it had to be exact, he didn't want to know. He grimaced even more when the man stuffed part of a doughnut in his mouth as he went off to get more tea. How large of a sweet tooth did this guy have?

"You have no idea how large of a sweet tooth this one has," the Professor said, as if reading his mind. The man took out the pipe he was using from his mouth. "I've seen him eat at least a dozen doughnuts, three cups of milk tea with thirteen lumps of sugar in each, a few candy bars, and some ice cream. And he didn't even go on a sugar rush."

For the first time in ages, Vincent felt his jaw drop. He was surprised the man didn't have diabetes, rotten teeth, or whatever other health complication that resulted from taking in too much sugar. He looked at the "Professor", as Abel called him, William Walter Wordsworth with pity. Although his codename was the title of the person he hated most, Wordsworth was the exact opposite of Hojo. He liked science and inventing according to Abel, but at least he didn't use human beings in unethical experiments. Abel and Walter both snapped at him for even suggesting something so horrid. He couldn't help it; he had to know for sure, otherwise he might've hated the man for an absurd reason.

Already, Abel proved to be a grown-up five-year-old. Clumsy, relatively silly, made a lot of mistakes, and often complained to "the Lord"—whoever the hell that was—about his lack of funds. The Professor told him that Abel never had more than four dinars on him at any given time. Vincent wasn't sure what "dinars" were, but it sounded like a type of currency; yet another thing that was different in this place, wherever "here" was. After the initial confrontation, Abel had led him to a building that looked like a church, but it wasn't decrepit like the one Aerith went to in order to grow her flowers.

Vincent scratched at the bandages located under his leather outfit. Those wounds could've easily healed within a few hours thanks to a number of things Hojo "blessed" him with. But if he wanted to escape any suspicions about _what_ he was, he needed to remain as "normal" as possible. Not that he could do much about that, but he had to try. He had told Abel he was just a skilled gunman with a flair for the dramatic, which explained his clothes. Somewhat. He knew the priest didn't buy it for a second, but it was the only thing he could come up with off the top of his head at that moment. He didn't know how strong these "vampires" were, so it probably tipped the priest off that Vincent knew more than he was letting on. Learning that he wasn't getting anywhere with interrogating the Ex-Turk, he gave up and decided that he'd let his boss take care of the matter.

The ruby-eyed gunslinger eyed Abel's reaction curiously. The silver-haired man seemed to be shaking as he pictured whatever scary mental image of his boss. Whoever it was, he or she must've had quite the influence on Abel.

Although, Vincent did tell him some things, if vaguely. He told them he wasn't from around there and he had no contact with anyone he knew. He was completely clueless as to where he was.

The red-caped carrier of Chaos raised his head as Abel returned and sat down in the chair across of the table they sat at. The priest took a sip from his viscous tea and smiled happily. He narrowed his eyes at the priest. His "happy-go-lucky" attitude reminded him of Yuffie and, in turn, his friends.

He mentally shook his head as he tried to remember what question he wanted to ask before Abel got off topic with the milk tea.

"Alright, Nightroad," Vincent began. "I told you what I know. Explain your side."

"I thought I told you to call me 'Father'," Abel mumbled under his breath.

"Just answer, please."

"Insistent, aren't you?" Abel teased back. "Anyway, I am Father Abel Nightroad. I'm a traveling priest for the Vatican."

"Vatican?" Vincent repeated in confusion.

"You know: stands in Rome, the center of human existence after the Armageddon?"

"Rome? Armageddon?"

Abel blanched and nearly fell out of his chair. The Professor dropped his pipe in shock. Vincent just blinked at their reactions. Was "Armageddon" something big?

"What have you been doing your whole life? Sleeping underground?"

Vincent frowned at how close the Professor's guess was. "_Something like that,_" he thought.

"It nearly destroyed the world. Humans and vampires tried to kill each other. The destruction was massive for both sides," Abel explained. "Rome is one of the last safe havens for human kind after Armageddon. It is where His Holiness, the Pope, lives."

"_Sounds a bit like Meteor,_" Vincent mused as he drank more of the disgustingly sweet tea, more so out of respect than thirst. "_But I've been everywhere on the Planet and I've never heard of any 'Vatican', 'Armageddon', 'Rome', or 'Pope' anywhere. And vampires? Those are fictional beings, aren't they? Cid and Yuffie often joked about me being one. And…this tea is too __**sweet**__..._"

"So, what's your _real_ story, Mr. Red?" asked Abel. "I highly doubt you're just a fashion-disaster wielding a gun."

"I'm not so sure anymore," Vincent admitted to himself, ignoring Abel's question. He then looked Abel in the eyes. "Vincent Valentine."

"Huh?" Abel responded dumbly.

"My name."

"Ah," Walter said. "Interesting. And how did you get involved with the _Fleurs Du Mal_?"

"I'm not involved with anything. They attacked, I defended myself. Simple as that."

"So, you're not in league with the Rosenkreuz Orden?" Abel asked.

"Who?"

"Don't worry about it. That response answers that question."

Vincent became more and more confused the longer the conversation went on. All these names that appear to be familiar terms to them were foreign to him. Abel looked expectedly at him, as if realizing his inner turmoil.

"Nightroad? Wordsworth?"

"You're going to call us by our last names no matter how many times we tell you not to, aren't you?" Abel deadpanned.

"Tell me truthfully if anything I say strikes you as a familiar term," Vincent said, ignoring the silver-haired priest again.

"Uh, sure? Where are you going with this?" Abel answered hesitantly.

"Meteor."

"Huh?" they both answered in confusion.

"Giant rock from outer space sent to destroy the Planet. Destroyed most of Midgar. Does it ring a bell?"

"What about a chunk of flying space rock hitting where?" Walter asked, intrigued by what Vincent was trying to explain.

That sent Vincent on edge. EVERYONE should have known about Meteor and Midgar. If the next three didn't stir anything in the two, then he was in trouble.

"Lifestream."

"I've never heard that word before," Abel admitted.

"Shinra Company."

"What do they do? Never heard of them," the Professor said.

"Cloud Strife."

"Who?" they both questioned.

It was at this point Vincent dropped his cup. The cup shattered, sending broken ceramic and tea onto the floor. Abel silently mourned for the unfinished milk tea. But his attention soon turned toward the absolutely distressed look on Vincent's normally inexpressive face. Abel briefly wondered if what they said _shouldn't_ have been said. He could barely make out what Vincent was muttering under his breath.

"The Lifestream…Aerith…did it…for my sins…then I can't…? Lucrecia…"

"Vincent?"

"_Shit_…"

* * *

**HoPS: **_**NANI!?**_** There are no Final Fantasy VII and Trinity Blood crossovers!? Well, now I have amended this misfortune.**

**Abel: Don't you have other works you need to attend to?**

**HoPS: I can't help it, Father. My new muse wants nothing to do with what I've got right now. She's more focused on you and Vincent Valentine. She realized how similar you two were and that's what spawned this little plot bunny. Although, that's all it's gonna be unless I get enough people who want to read this. Trinity Blood, unfortunately, doesn't get the attention it deserves.  
**

**_*Hides behind impenetrable wall*_ Don't kill me! I'm sorry if the characters seem OOC and if the reason for the dimensional travel is stupid! The Lifestream is a weird piece of work, okay?! I'm still relatively new to both FFVII and Trinity Blood!**

**Vincent: Why me?**

**HoPS: Cheer up, Vinnie! At least I'm gracious and sparing you from being paired in another slash story or with **_**Kagome**_**! I'm serious. It seems that 25% of the crossover stories with Vincent as a search engine character, it's a slash story. And I'm entirely **_**SICK**_** of Kagome being paired up with every male fantasy character known to man. It makes her seem worse than Inuyasha with his two-timing!**

**Vincent: Can't argue with that logic. But what do you have in mind?**

**HoPS: **_***Grins evilly***_

**Abel: ...You're in trouble.**

**HoPS: Anyway, don't expect updates anytime soon. College is a bit rough for me at the moment and it seems I always get my inspiration during the school year. It's horrible. Anyway, read and review please! Give some love to _REAL_ vampires like Abel and not shiny kiss-asses like Edward Cullen!**


End file.
